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examine.’
    ‘Very good, sir.’
    We reached the upper gallery, a long passageway extending in both directions and with doors leading from it to at least twenty bedrooms, all of which we examined and all, with the exception of Lord Deerswood’s own bed-chamber, apparently unused, the furniture covered in dust-sheets.
    The former Marquis of Deerswood’s room was similarly sheeted, the bed stripped down to the mattress and the curtains which surrounded the four-poster swathed in white cotton so that they resembled so many hanging shrouds.
    As we entered the room, Holmes glanced down at the surround of polished boards which extended beyond the edge of the carpet, before raising a quizzical eyebrow in my direction. The implication was quite clear. The thin layer of dust on the floor, which had gathered since the room was last cleaned, bore no other signs of foot-marks than our own. It was evident that the room had not been recently occupied.
    As the butler closed the door on the last room at the end of the passage, he announced, ‘You have now seen all the bedchambers, gentlemen. Do you wish to return downstairs?’
    ‘What of the other wing?’ Holmes inquired.
    For the first time, I thought I detected a sign of unease on the butler’s part.
    ‘Only the servants and Mr Barker occupy that part of the house, sir.’
    ‘Nevertheless, I should like to see it.’
    ‘Very good, sir.’
    We followed him down some steps and into another passageway. From its lower ceiling with its heavy beams, it was clear that we had entered the older part of the house, all thatremained of the original Tudor manor house in front of which Holmes and I had kept our vigil the previous night.
    The passage ran haphazardly, turning several corners and ascending or descending by means of sets of shallow steps so that it was difficult to grasp the plan of the rooms and their relationship to one another.
    The chambers themselves were smaller and darker than those in the main part of the house and several of them also appeared to be unoccupied. However, we examined briefly Macey’s own bedroom and those of the cook, the housemaids and Lord Deerswood’s valet.
    It was the room belonging to Barker, his lordship’s secretary, in which Holmes lingered the longest although, at the time, I could not understand why this particular chamber should have aroused his interest.
    There was nothing remarkable about it. Like the others, it was low-ceilinged with old, linen-fold panelling on the walls and with a single mullioned window, fitted with wooden shutters, which looked out towards the wood, on the edge of which Holmes and I had sat upon the fallen log.
    The furniture was of the plainest, a single bedstead with a night-table beside it on which an oil lamp was standing and, opposite it, an old-fashioned press of time-blackened oak which occupied almost the entire wall. An armchair and a square of drugget on the floor completed the furnishings.
    Nevertheless, Holmes remained for several long moments in the room, opening the door of the press to look inside it and examining the shutters before turning back towards the door.
    There were other rooms to see – a windowless linen closet which adjoined Barker’s with the housekeeper’s bedchamber next to it but Holmes merely put his head in a perfunctory manner inside them.
    The tour completed, we returned to the head of the main stair-case and went down it to the entrance hall which we crossed, it being clearly Macey’s intention to conduct us out of the house.
    Indeed, he was halfway towards the front doors when Holmes suddenly announced, ‘There is one room I wish to re-examine.I am sure Lord Deerswood would not object, having already given us permission to inspect the house.’
    The butler seemed nonplussed and, as he stood hesitating, Holmes started back up the stairs, adding airily over his shoulder, ‘There is no need for you to accompany us, Macey. Dr Watson and I know the way.’
    As we reached the